


Nights With A God

by Ingonyama



Category: Captain America - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Thor - All Media Types
Genre: Barebacking, Body Worship, Breeding, CMNM Fetish, Clothing Kink, Condoms Don't Exist On Asgard, Dirty Talk, Light Dom/sub, M/M, MPreg Fantasies, No STDs Universe, Nudity, Partial Nudity, Rimming, Rip Strip, Snowballing, Stripping
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-20
Updated: 2018-01-20
Packaged: 2019-03-07 08:16:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13430664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ingonyama/pseuds/Ingonyama
Summary: Some rituals have nothing to do with religion, but they're still acts of worship.





	Nights With A God

**Author's Note:**

> This started as something completely different, but like most stories, or at least most of mine, it practically wrote itself by the end.
> 
> Feedback strongly encouraged!

"Good work out there, everyone."

The team's affirmative responses greeted him. Wanda's sincere gratitude, Scott's barely-restrained fannish glee, and Tony's glib rejoinder.

Before his teammates, Captain America stood and spoke as a soldier, proud of his men and the job they had done. Which he was. Before his friends, Steve Rogers stood and spoke as someone who was glad they had all made it through okay and come out winners on the other side. Which he was.

But Thor's smoldering cobalt gaze and simple, deep "Aye"...that turned Steve Rogers into something else, which he also was.

"Vision's on monitor duty this weekend, so you're all on your own time till then." His voice and stance remained unchanged to anyone else.

But there would always be tells. The way his pupils dilated, the subtle parting of his lips, that slight tremble in his muscles under his uniform.

And Thor caught them all. They both knew what was coming, and to whom.

"Dismissed." An easy, untroubled smile. "See you all on Monday, if no one tries to blow anything up between now and then."

The group dispersed, but Thor caught his gaze. The Thunderer's eyes flickered with blue lightning briefly, the corner of his lips turning up. Steve knew the code. His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed.

It was time.

~*~

Simply being out of uniform made Steve almost heady with relief. As soon as the star-spangled costume was safely in the laundry, burdens all fell away. There as a part of him that wanted to go to Thor's room right then and there, exactly as he was, but years of discipline and training served him well. He showered -- not laying any more of a hand on himself than he had to to get clean -- and changed into a set of clothes that had grown too tight on him.

He studied himself in the mirror. In addition to his transformation from skinny, sickly scarecrow to living human perfection (not his words), the serum had done a million tiny alterations to Steve's body chemistry. He smelled different, his fingernails grew more slowly, he couldn't get drunk. Steve idly wondered how many of these were by accident and how many were by design. Sadly, even if Erskine hadn't been killed that day, there was no one left alive to ask seventy years on.

One thing that stood out to Steve in particular: he could work out. His muscles weren't locked in stasis; they could grow and change. They may be able to atrophy; he didn't know, he'd never liked sitting around long enough to find out. But they could still exercise, and grow, and stand out more against his skin.  Even since he woke up, he'd noticed that he'd gotten a good deal more cut, and bulked up slightly. Not much, but enough to justify spending an hour a day in the gym, or jogging through Central Park, or just doing small things to stay in shape, just in case.

Especially now that he had someone to stay in shape _for_. Now, in a white T-shirt and beige khakis that were entirely too tight, so that they squeezed and tucked uncomfortably, he was about to get the payoff for his hard work.

The halls of the Avengers Complex were empty. The facility was huge, but there were never more than eight or nine people here at any given time anyway, and Steve had basically given all of them the weekend off. Only he remained here -- everyone else had somewhere else to go. Even Wanda and Vision had an apartment in Manhattan. Vision was handling security -- really, he was the best choice.

Steve and Thor had the place to themselves. Everything Steve was doing right now -- showering, dressing, getting cleaned up -- it was all part of the act. Part of the delicious waiting game he and Thor played, the dance they shared to keep themselves in control. Otherwise they'd just fall on each other like animals, and never get back up.

As he walked, the tight khakis grew tighter in the front. By the time he got to Thor's door and knocked, he could barely move. Just like they both wanted.

Thor answered the door, smiled that easy, confident smile, and Steve's heart stopped.

"Steven! Welcome. I only recently finished my preparation."

Thor had dressed to the nines in Asgardian finery. A wine-red tunic clung to his form, embroidered at the sleeves and neck with gold patterns, belted at the waist with a sky blue sash. He wore dark blue breeches -- not pants -- underneath, and topped off the simple look with a pair of black cuffed boots that made Steve's mouth water. He'd even done his hair -- bound up in a single, loose braid that hung from his shoulders, a stripe of gold over the red of his shirt. Finally, his bright scarlet cloak hung from his shoulders, capping off the image and swirling about him dramatically.

"Evening, Thor," Steve greeted. Somehow, his voice didn't break even looking at the romantic fantasy in front of him.

Thor looked like something out of a fairy tale. Steve looked like something our of a low-budget porn film.

Just how they both liked it.

~*~

As soon as Steve stepped inside Thor's room, the pretenses fell away. Steve was a big man, but swept up into Thor's arms for a kiss that scratched his face with golden stubble in all the best ways, he felt tiny. Tiny, and wanted, and protected. And hungry.

Thor broke the kiss and stepped back, appraising Steven's attire with a eye. "'Tis simple garb you wear tonight, my heart." A big hand roamed over Steve's body, gripping him rightly beneath his clothes.

"J-just some old donations from when I woke up," Steve gasped. "Too small for me anymore."

"Evidently," the Thunderer replied, bending down to lick at Steve's nipple, standing out hard and proud beneath the thin cotton tee.

"Pants are...are a little tight," Steve said, his voice rising in pitch as that huge hand groped his ass.

"Enticingly so," Thor agreed, kissing the hollow of Steve's neck. "So much that you chose not to bother with undergarments."

Steve swallowed. Thor was right -- he hadn't bothered with shoes, or socks, or underwear, before coming. He always ran hot these days -- another change the serum had made to his body -- and if he wasn't out in public or trying to maintain an image, as Captain America or as Steve Rogers, he generally wore as few layers as possible. Always a shirt and pants at least, though, he never stripped to the point where he'd scandalize his team -- Steve was too old-fashioned, too civilized for that.

Most of the time.

Then there were days like today, where  -- to coin a phrase -- Steve Rogers couldn't give a flying fuck.

Thor sensed his impatience, and chuckled. "It is well," he said. "This simply requires that I take my time unwrapping my gift."

And his fingers laced at the collar of Steve's shirt, and pulled.

The soldier's breath caught in his throat as -- agonizingly slowly, inch by inch -- Thor tore his shirt in two. The sound of tearing fabric filled the room, made them both flush with desire.

Ever since Thor had found out about this particular kink of Steve's, the Captain had never left the Prince's room in the same outfit he entered in. That outfit would usually lie in shreds on the floor before the night was over.

The front of Steve's khakis grew dark with pre-come as Thor drew out the process. When Steve's shirt hung off his body, the front torn in half, he walked around to the back, behind him, and tore the back of the shirt in the same way. Now four strips of fabric hung off Steve's muscular torso, the sleeves the only thing keeping it there. One quick tug on the left, and one quick tug on the right, and four pieces of white cotton fluttered to the ground, pooling around Steve's feet.

Steve was bare-chested now, his nipples peaked and hard in the bright orange light of Thor's fireplace. His cock was leaking in his khakis like a faucet. He was sure that if his nipples could pre, they would. Sweat was beginning to bead on his forehead, his shoulders, and down the cleft of his pecs, and Thor smirked as he breathed in the scent of his lover's growing arousal.

"You smell divine, my heart. A feast is truly that much more flavorful when it has had time to marinate."

"So I'm a rump roast now?" his voice quavered as he qupped, and Steve blushed. But Thor laughed, and all was right with the world. Steve could see why he'd been worshipped, all those ages ago. He wanted to worship him now.

"Indeed, fit for the heir to Asgard. All I need do..." his hands went to the hem of Steve's khakis, _oh God, thank Christ, thank Thor, finally!_ "...is take it out of the oven."

Even as old and tight as they were, khakis were not designed to tear easily. Indeed, Steve doubted any normal human could do it without a pair of scissors. Thor tore them in half with no more than a grunt of effort. The button popped and flew to a dark corner of the room, the zipper came forcibly apart in a way it was never meant to. Then Thor started on the legs, kneeling to leisurely rip each of them in half in turn. Steve's cock seemed to sing as it was freed of its confines, jutting out strong and proud, narrowly missing smacking the god in the face, to the mortification of the Captain and the amusement of Thor.

WHen Thor stood to look the Captain in the eye again, Steve was naked, blushing, and painfully hard. They kissed again, Thor's entire clothed body pressing tightly against Steve's naked one, making the Midgardian writhe against him and moan. Then, Thor sauntered to his bed, and lay on his back upon it. He carefully arranged his cape so that it draped beneath him, and wouldn't choke him over the course of the night's activities.

When he was comfortable, Thor gave Steve a smoldering, stormy look. "'Tis your turn to take what you want now, my heart. But bear in mind, this is one of my favorite raiments from home."

"Yessir." The 'sir' was automatic, but did not pass by unnoticed. Thor smiled. He would have to remember that for the future.

Steve crawled onto the bed, sweating, panting, dripping and flush with heat and desire. "You look like a whore in heat," Thor said, palming himself appreciatively.

"Now that's uncalled for," Steve shot back with a smirk. "A whore gets paid for what they do. I'm giving it up for free."

"Indeed. Forgive my rudeness." Thor's lips spread into a slow smile. "A slut, then."

"That's more like it." With a grin, Steve reached up under Thor's tunic to skin the breeches down off his legs. He carefully removed first one boot, then the other, locking gazes with the Thunderer as he kissed each one before setting them aside. When he had completely bared the god's lower half, he replaced the boots, with the same care and attentiveness. Thor's cock jutted upwards, bunching up the front half of his tunic so that everything from his chest down to his knees was bared for his lover's approval. The soldier didn't bother to remove Thor's tunic. Instead, he stretched out over the Thunderer, grinding the naked parts of their bodies together as he embraced him. "Say it again."

"Slut." Thor's hips ground upwards, his cock mashing into Steve's, both painfully hard. "My slut."

"Damn straight." Steve then left a trail of kisses along his lover's exposed flesh, tonguing his navel, licking at his hips, sucking in the flesh of his thighs with small, hungry bites that made the Thunder-God gasp with each one. "And I'm a damn good one, too."

"V-verily," Thor panted out. "Now, my slut...the wait is over. I require your taste on my lips."

Steve chuckled. "Yes, sir," he purred out. He crawled, muscular and catlike, over Thor's body, until he knelt over the Thunderer's heated gaze. Then he sat down, Thor's bearded face in the cleft of his ass, and Thor seized the opportunity. He licked and ate at the ring between Steve's cheeks eagerly, tasting the Captain's scent, his cleanliness and his desire, straight from the source as his love shuddered and moaned above him. Thor's hands strayed to his cock, but Steve, sensing the motion, leaned back and reached behind him to grab the Thunderer's arms, and hold them still. Strong as Thor was, Steve had no difficulty pinning his arms to their sides, causing Thor to moan into his feast in frustration.

'Sorry," Steve said, with surprising levelness. "Can't let you play with my toys before I'm ready to."

Thor let out a keening whine of desire, which hummed against Steve's most private place and caused him to gasp aloud. The thunder god sensed and seized his advantage, alternating deep, fevered licks with low, vibrating hums and moans, which seemed to vibrate through the soldier's entire body. Steve could smell Thor's arousal building -- like some earthy mix of spice and petrichor -- and ran his hands over his body in pleasure as his hips rolled, grinding himself on Thor's tongue and mouth.

Steve could cum like this, he knew. They both could. They had done it before.

But that wasn't what he wanted now.

He pulled himself up off Thor's face, leaving his lover panting, needful. "Steven...please...tarry no longer, I need you..."

Steve positioned himself so that his ass was aligned with the head of Thor's magnificent cock. He looked down at the Thunder-god, all traces of teasing gone from his face.

"I need you too, Thor." he said simply, and, lubed by Thor's tongue and weeping cockhead, sat down.

The penetration was slow, the wait agonizing, for both of them, but Thor would sooner castrate himself than hurt Steve, and they both knew it. But the panting, breathless moans that escaped Steve's lips while he impaled himself on Asgardian phallus were sounds that Thor would treasure forever.

The fuck itself was worth every bit of the wait. The way Thor filled every part of Steve so perfectly, the low moans and alternating growls of 'slut' and 'my heart' going through his entire body, the beautiful friction of Thor's dick inside him, smoothed by the Asgardian's unceasing flow of pre-come and his own sweat until the thrusting, pistoning fuck was practically a glide, all combined to turn Steve into a panting, groaning, needy animal.

When he finally released the god's arms, Thor seized Steve with a force that was almost bruising, clutching him close as he pistoned in and out. His lips and teeth were everywhere, kissing, sucking, biting, marking. Within minutes, Steve's back, shoulders, and neck were mottled with bruises, bite marks, and what the young people called "hickeys", each one a badge of honor to Steve's mind and a mark of possession to Thor's. This was his lover's way of worshipping him, just as Steve had offered up his body as an act of worship for Thor.

Their peak almost snuck up on them. Lost in the building ecstasy of each other's bodies, Thor and Steve's climaxes SLAMMED into them within seconds of each other, Thor hilting himself into Steve and howling as he flooded him with come, as befitted a fertility god. Steve could have sworn lightning flashed in the room as his vision went white and he released, painting Thor's exposed stomach, his magnificent tunic, and the regal cape beneath them with spatters of milky, snow-white seed.

~*~

They came down in each other's arms as the fire burned low. Steve carefully licked up every drop of his release from Thor's body, and his clothes, before stains could set in. However, instead of swallowing, he shared it with Thor in a kiss, feeling the fullness of Thor's seed inside him.

"Think you knocked me up this time?" he asked, once Thor had swallowed the last of his offering.

Thor laughed, his smile shining in the red light of the embers. "You'd like that? The thought of being bred, belly swollen with my seed, carrying our child within you, appeals to you?"

Steve was glad his blush didn't show in the light. "...Maybe. What if it does?"

Thor regarded him steadily, seeming to think it over. "Perhaps it appeals to me as well..." Steve wriggled almost against his will at the tone of Thor's voice, growing heavier as his words grew filthier. "...you as my breeding slut, pinned to the bed under the weight of our children inside you...perhaps you'd prefer never to rise, between your constantly swollen, pregnant belly and my constant breeding of you? I know your body could take it...probably even enjoy it, giving birth to sons and daughters, one after the other, as I impregnate you afresh on the very night of each child's birth."

Steve groaned as the mental picture came to his head, clear as day. "..I can't tell who's a bigger pervert right now: you for suggesting this..." he ground his swiftly-hardening cock against Thor's thigh, "...or me for enjoying it as much as I do."

Thor guided one of Steve's hands down to where his member, still slick with Steve's spit after being cleaned of its previous release, stood stiff and rampant. "Shall I go on?"

Before his lover, Steve Rogers was a slut. And they both liked it that way.

~FIN~


End file.
